


Love Bites

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Series: My Boyfriend, the Vampire [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Biting, Boyfriends, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Romance, Vampires, photophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 14:22:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3613266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt is plagued in the middle of the night by a voracious mosquito - or so he thinks. When he wakes up to see the heinous marks on his neck, he realizes that something else entirely might be responsible for this attack. </p><p>This is a one-shot based off of an anon request that I write another ficlet in the same verse as A Long Night  (written for the Kurtbastian Hiatus Project prompt ‘vampire’) with skank!Kurt and vampire!Sebastian, but with jealous!Sebastian marking his territory. The title Love Bites has two meanings - one that love kind of sucks (no pun intended) and the other because ‘love bites’ is what my mom used to call hickeys.</p><p>Warning for biting and the minor effects of a non-turning vampire bite, specifically photophobia. Fluff and angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Bites

Kurt feels a slight pinch, like the prick of a tiny needle injecting into his neck, and in his sleep, he swings a hand to bat the culprit away.

“Fuck, Kurt!” Sebastian hisses, having taken the hit square in the eye.

“Wha---?” Kurt mumbles, partially awake. “Whadaya doin’, Seb?” Kurt snorts in an unattractive way - a way reserved for muttering in his sleep - then shifts positions, rolling his hips over, and then his body till he’s lying on his side facing away from his boyfriend.

“I’m not doing anything,” Sebastian replies. “Just…go back to sleep.”

Kurt would say that Sebastian sounds suspiciously awake and coherent for two fifty-two in the morning, but it’s times like these that Kurt forgets his boyfriend is a vampire and not the same run-of-the-mill asshole he knew back in Dalton.

“I’m trying,” Kurt complains, bringing the comforter up to his chin and holding it tight around his shoulders to protect his vulnerable neck, “but there’s a mosquito or something in here, and it’s bugging me…hee-hee… _bugging me_ …” Kurt chuckles at his unintended pun, snorting again, which makes him laugh more.

“I’ll kill it if it comes back, babe,” Sebastian promises. “Now, go back to sleep.”

“Mmm…okay…” Kurt agrees, shoving skepticism aside and snuggling against the hard body of his boyfriend, who usually opts to lie beside Kurt in bed even though he doesn’t need sleep. “As long as you ( _yawn_ ) stay here to protect me…”

“Of course,” Sebastian says, smiling with fangs bared as Kurt snores softly. “I’ll stay right here.”

Kurt can feel the sun within his body, telling him it’s time to rise - occupational hazard of dating a vampire, this sixth sense about the oncoming dawn. It also means that Sebastian has made himself scarce, banished to the dark corner of the bedroom by the closet where the sunlight doesn’t reach until noon. The sun has yet to breach the horizon and pierce his sheer drapes, but Kurt can feel it prickling behind his eyelids. That’s odd. Rarely does that happen, unless he and Sebastian have a night of hardcore sex with a lot of biting involved. But weeks of putting in overtime at school and at the diner sent Kurt to bed early, so that definitely didn’t happen.

Short of _that_ strange symptom, his primary concern at the moment is the number that insect did on him last night. Kurt raises a hand to his neck, hissing when his fingertips come in contact with his sore skin.

“Ugh,” he grumbles, rolling his way out of bed. He wants to assess the damage so he can figure out how much cover-up he’s going to need to apply before school. His feet hit the floor and immediately the urge to climb back into bed and hide under the covers overwhelms him. Why is he so damn exhausted?

Kurt stumbles blindly over to his vanity and drops heavily onto the stool, groaning at the prospect of opening his eyes. The day would go so much easier if he could keep them shut, but that would probably make taking the subway way more difficult. Kurt blinks his eyes open, lids dragging over sticky corneas, objecting to the idea of letting light anywhere near his retinas. Kurt turns away from the mirror when a stream of light hits the reflective surface and brightens the room.

“Jeez,” Kurt mumbles, putting a hand to his aching head, shielding his eyes. “Hey, Sebastian…did you slip something into my Diet Coke last night or something? Because I feel awful.”

Sebastian doesn’t answer, and a few more blinks confirms that Kurt’s boyfriend isn’t even in the room.

 _Uh-oh_ , Kurt thinks. _That’s never a good sign._

Kurt rubs his eyes hard with the heels of his palms, blinking between rubs to kick-start the watering process. He manages to clear his bleary vision enough to get a decent glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, and his jaw drops.

“Se-bas-tian!” Kurt roars when he sees the grotesque purple splotches running up and down his neck, covering nearly every conceivable inch of skin.

“Yes?” Sebastian asks, peeking his head in the bedroom door and smirking at Kurt’s reflection in the mirror. “You bellowed?”

“Did you do this?” Kurt asks, pawing at his neck, running his fingertips over the marks, gasping in horror at some of them.

“Nope,” Sebastian says. “It was a mosquito. Saw him. Big motherfucker, too.”

Kurt pivots on his stool to stare angrily at Sebastian since trying to look at his non-reflection through the mirror was having no effect.

“A _mosquito_ did this?” Kurt asked indignantly at Sebastian’s ridiculous lie.

“Yup,” Sebastian contended, keeping a straight face despite his snickering, “but I killed him.”

Kurt turns back to the mirror as a more intense beam of sunlight hits the glass, and he squeezes his eyes shut hard to avoid the glare.

“Fuck, Sebastian!” Kurt yells, leaping off the stool and racing to the window to close the black-out curtains. “You _did_ bite me, you little shit!”

Sebastian strolls into the room nonchalantly, arms crossed over his chest.

“Only a little,” he finally admits.

“Only a little? I look like ground meat! Sebastian, you asshole!” Kurt staggers back to his vanity to get a better look at the damage.

“Don’t freak out, princess,” Sebastian remarks. He sits on the edge of the bed, watching Kurt set up his arsenal of foundation, intent on covering up the bruises. “The photophobia will wear off in a few hours.”

“It’s not the photophobia that’s bothering me, Seb,” Kurt sighs, opening a container of green base makeup to prep his violated neck. “If you wanted a late night snack, could you have at least bitten a spot that wouldn’t show? I have play practice this afternoon, and you know how important this is to me. I look like a fucking leper!”

“What do you care?” Sebastian pouts. “Just wear one of those awful neckerchiefs like you always do.”

“I care because I bought a new Marc Jacobs shirt with a V-neckline,” Kurt argues, turning his neck left and right and whimpering, “and I was really looking forward to wearing it.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that, by the way?” Sebastian asks. “Why the departure from your leather jacket and t-shirts? Why are you buying all this _designer_ shit now?”

“Because this is an important production and I want to try and look a little more professional,” Kurt explains.

Sebastian nods, the dark look in Sebastian’s eyes mocking him.

“A-ha. Is that it, or is it because that brunette with the gel helmet and the fuckable ass is going to be there?” Sebastian snaps.

Kurt stops fussing with his makeup, an applicator wedge slathered in primer poised an inch from his skin.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he says, turning to face Sebastian again, whose eyes dart away to meticulously examine the threads of Kurt’s Valentina comforter, “are you telling me that you’re jealous?”

Sebastian is silent a moment, then he sputters a sarcastic laugh.

“Whatever. You’re delusional. What do _I_ have to be jealous of?”

“Exactly.” Kurt puts his makeup wedge down and scoots closer, placing his hands on Sebastian’s knees. “What do _you_ have to be jealous of?”

Sebastian sighs, his eyes traveling from the comforter to the floor where a narrow ray of light spreads over the wood.

“Maybe this…” he says, running a hand through the beam, his skin sizzling at the touch.

“Sebastian! Don’t hurt yourself!” Kurt reaches for Sebastian’s burnt hand and holds it in his grasp, standing and pulling Sebastian down the width of the bed, farther away from the window. Kurt sits down beside him and rests his head on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Oh, honey. We talked about this.” Sebastian shrugs, uncomfortable with Kurt’s concern, but he doesn’t pull his hand away, curling his fingers over Kurt’s to keep them joined. Kurt looks into Sebastian’s face, into glowing red eyes fighting to stay open as the oncoming dawn weighs heavy on him. Kurt knows Sebastian’s transformation has been hard for him, but it’s never been particularly challenging for them as a couple – not until Kurt landed the starring role in a play that had the potential to go from the humble student theater at NYADA to off-Broadway, with Kurt leading the charge. “No one’s going to replace you, and that guy…” Kurt shakes his head, “he doesn’t even come close. Besides, I’m not the flirt in this relationship. _You_ are.”

Sebastian chuckles, tired eyes lifting to meet Kurt’s.

“You have to trust me,” Kurt says, raising a hand to cup Sebastian’s cold cheek.

“I do trust you,” Sebastian says, turning into Kurt’s hand and kissing his wrist, right above the pulse that calls to him incessantly, echoing his need. Sebastian doesn’t know if it’s the love he carried over into this immortal life or if that need has always been there, but he has a bond with Kurt – one that would devastate him if it was broken. “It’s _him_ I don’t trust. I’ve been to your late night rehearsals. I see the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Kurt says. “Do you remember the way _I_ used to look at _you_ at Dalton when I thought you weren’t paying attention?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian answers with a wistful laugh. “Yeah, I do.” If Sebastian closes his eyes, he can see those furtive glances that at one point simmered with hate, but day by day turned into a heat of a different kind until Sebastian took the initiative to ask Kurt out.

The first five times, Kurt said _no_.

“Well, I still do.” Kurt leans in close and presses a light kiss to Sebastian’s lips. Sebastian smiles into it, even when he feels his strength ebb away. As the sun rises higher in the sky, Sebastian’s need to find somewhere dark to rest amplifies, but he’ll do anything to stay like this and keep kissing his boyfriend.

But he can’t, and that’s just one more thing he has to be jealous of.

“I should let you get back to your makeup,” Sebastian says, relinquishing his grip on Kurt’s hand. Kurt looks at his vanity, at the army of small bottles and jars awaiting him, and he laughs.

“You know, fuck it,” Kurt says, jumping up the bed and pulling Sebastian along with him. “I’ll have the makeup girl do it. Let her earn her keep. This way everybody gets to see the marks my baby gave me.”

“Really?” Sebastian asks, raising an eyebrow. Kurt tugs Sebastian on top of him, and Sebastian carefully settles over Kurt’s body.

“Yup. In fact, I think I can handle a few more, if you’re not too tired, that is.” Kurt loops his arms around Sebastian’s neck, threading his fingers into his hair. His skin may be unnaturally cool to the touch, but his hair still feels like silk. It’s one of Kurt’s favorite things about Sebastian’s new body.

“I think I can do that,” Sebastian says, biding past the daybreak and finding a surprisingly clear spot on Kurt’s neck. “We’ll give that makeup girl a run for her money.”


End file.
